Courage Under Fire
by RayneFire
Summary: In an age where superheores were rising again after a seventeen year disappearence, one woman stands against the odds. But when she gets injured she wakes up to find herself in the home of Green Arrow, Star City's very own Robin Hood.
1. Chapter 1

She stood staring out over the desert plains. She felt the water flowing under her feet, through her body. She wasn't thirsty, wasn't hungry, she just was. Everything changed so much in the last four years. She stood there watching a desert hawk soar, yelling out as it searched for something to eat, something to do. She wanted that freedom, didn't realize that she had that freedom; it ran through her veins, through her heart, her very soul. She didn't feel free though, she felt bound to the powers she was gifted with, that she was cursed with. Looking at her hands as the gripped her walking stick she thought of those powers. Fire couldn't burn her as it coursed through her veins, water called to her intertwining with its opposite element. The fight between the two elements raged in her body. 

She remembered the first day she found out something was – different about her. She remembered being inside standing in the midst of flames, flames that swirled around her. Early she was playing with her brothers G.I. Joe's, a Barbie tied around the waist, hung off the closet door. She had heard the pop, thinking nothing of it she continued to play. Her father was in town grabbing some feed for the cattle and chickens, her mother was down in their small garden picking whichever ripe vegetables there were. No one new that the house would go up in smoke ten minutes later after she heard that strange little pop. That was when everything changed.

She had been trapped, beams fell and splintered, sending sparks and cinders onto her body, but they never burned her. She remembered hearing her parents yell out for her, already safe in the humid air outside their country house. They called out to their youngest daughter, her mother almost fainting at the thought that she might lose her daughter, her only daughter. She watched them from the window; she had been too scared to move. She had only been eight. Her mother was on the ground heaving sobs racked had racked her body as she looked to the sky to , her mother on the ground heaving sobs looking up to the sky and praying. Her father looking around the house for a point of entry, covering his face from the force of heat that erupted from the burning hulk, he had wanted to save her. Her older brother had already moved out and gone to college, unaware of the trauma that was happening, he was safe in his dorm room studying for a midterm exam. Her sister was spending the night at a friend's house across the corn field. And she was there staring out the window wondering if the flames would eat through her skin. Then she heard the flames, or more correctly the voices within the flames, they were calling out to her, something was at least. Telling her, that it wasn't her time to go, that she had the courage to go on, that she had to go on, there was no other choice; it was already decided. She then grew sad, thinking that at eight years old she was already going crazy. She started to cry. Though tears came, they had no use in the red glow of the house. For a miracle to happen is what she prayed. What her mother had prayed for. As she cried harder, she found the strength to move to find herself an exit. And as thunder clapped outside, lightning blazed through the once star lit, now smoke filled night. And for the answer to their prayers rain fell hard that night covering all the acres of their farm it fell. It had brought life, and strength.

She walked from that house that night with a few second degree burns and a new life. Over the years she found her true calling. Through the two elements that saved her life she had two gifts she chose to wield, she wanted to master them. Instead of abandoning her, her parents accepted the gifts as the means of a certain kind of savior. After that night she begged her parents to enroll her in martial arts, all forms, all means. Because of what she feared and heard fire could not touch her. Because of what she prayed water was a part of her.

Over the years, things started to change. Through her sadness it rained, through her anger fire brought life. Small accidents led to accusations. Like the one in the chemistry lab at school, where she got angry, because Clark Eaton had decided to grab her ass and whisper how she should meet him in the shower after the big game and use her pretty little mouth. Fire spurted from a striker that hadn't move from the table since the beginning of the class. While the guys at her table chuckled, the once leveled flames of the Bunsen burner blew up, singing the ceiling. And the lewd comment making jock backed away, the two other guys in her group just stared at her, time just seemed to stop. After that she acquired the name Rayne Fire that day. No one could touch her if she didn't want them to, some would say that she had a force field around her that none could get through.


	2. Chapter 2

She wondered what her life would bring her now. She mastered her gifts over those long seventeen years since that fateful night. Working mercilessly, diligently, her body had grown gracefully, and toned. She had only what she had on her body. Knee high lace up boots that were black and dusted with red clay and scars covered her feet as short tight fitting black shorts that were worn with age and stayed on her waist with a simple belt. A form fitting blood red corset was tied tight and held an off the shoulder black peasant shirt that covered to the swells of her breasts. She had no difficulty breathing though, it came as easy as if she grew up with the curve inducing garment her entire life. Despite the heat of the day a heavy midnight blue cloak fell around her shoulders, patches her sewn in certain spots which were the only indication of age. She kept the hood up while she traced the carvings of her walking stick. A gift from one of her martial arts masters. 

She knelt and thumbed where the first tattoo was, her parents had aloud her to get when she was only thirteen, before she dug a bottle of water from her knapsack. 'Courage under fire, Grace through rain' was what it said in Arabic encircling her ankle, rain and fire slightly larger than the rest, shining bright in navy blue to rust red ink. Over the years she acquired more. A mermaid on her back, resting her head on her crossed arms, tail curling upwards, the mischievous smirk playing among her lips. Then a dragon on her left hip bone, curling, writhing up and down. And legendary was written in Old English on her lower back. Her navel was now pierced, as was her right eyebrow. Numerous earrings adorned her ears, three in her right, and four in her left. Though her appearance had changed, her thoughts, attitude and outlook on life has not.

She didn't know what life had in store for her, but she knew what she had to do. She scented them first as she stood slowly gripping her shaft, smelt the salty sweat that covered them, then she heard their motors second, and as they closed in on her she heard the scream of a child. She turned as a child ran past her and their four-wheelers came to a halt. Only then did she lower her hood, recognizing the craggy face behind shiny black sunglasses. "Athos."

"Angel we meet again." He chuckled, as he watched her grimace at the sight of him now. He watched her golden hair fall around her shoulders, and freely run in the slight breeze. He couldn't believe how time rarely had effect on her. He remembered her when they dated once or twice in college, she hadn't changed, but he had. "I believe that you have something that belongs to me." The child that hid behind her grabbed her cloak.

"I have nothing that is yours Athos, you forget humans are no long cattle; you want the child come and get her." He nodded to his two men behind him, they stepped forward. One started to charge, the biggest one, and a good foot taller than Angel herself and three times as thick. She held her hand in front of her and very gracefully waved it back and forth, the man ran right into an invisible wall. The second sensing something new, gave a hefty shrug and walked his way to the left, Angel watching his movements out of the corner of her eye turned her attention back on the man in front of her.

"Angel no hocus pocus."

"Fine by me." She smiled coyly, she flicked her hand and a jet stream of water shot from the ground, hitting the unsuspecting man in the chest, as he fell backwards a loud stream of curses erupted from his lips. "Tell me Athos, what has this child done to you?"

"She almost got away with a sheep off the mayors land."

She shook her head from side to side, "Then it's sad to know that she has reasons to do so. You know just as well as I, your city is not safe for anyone anymore. The world of politics and convicts has taken over from the days we walked the halls of Adriatic High. Now children have to take what they need for their families to stay alive." She told him calmly, she willed the fire not to erupt from her body.

"It is not so for those who are families that are loyal." He countered.

"Those who do his bidding you mean."

He paused, "Give me the kid Rayne Fire."

"No."

"Don't make me take her from you." He stated icily, she felt the child dig her hands in her cloak again, she unclasped it and let it gather around her. Her knuckles white from its grasp on her stuff, she felt the old familiar water and fire run through her veins as temper began to take a strangling hold on her.

"I dare you." She stated coldly in an almost throaty growl.

"No hocus pocus."

"What I have is not hocus pocus Athos, hocus pocus is for witches and warlock, I am neither."

"Whatever," he stated shrugging off a dusty leather jacket off, and then took a k-bar from his thigh. He stood well over six foot, his once rangy build filled out to be thick and muscular; his once tamed chestnut hair curled unruly around his ears and neck. He had the same eyes though, the same calming bottle green eyes that took only a poke now and days to ignite a deep venom. She kicked up the end of the staff and caught it in her free hand. "No hocus pocus, no tricks."

"Fine with me." They circled each other, walking slowly, treading carefully. She drew a little closer, twirling her staff self-consciously. He moved from side to side, fist drawn, k-bar parallel to the ground, he seemed antsy, like a monkey ready to perform its master callings. "You use to be civil what happened?" She asked curiously.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oblivion happened." Oblivion was when the world decided it didn't need heroes anymore, that it didn't need control and order, so they disappeared. Without a trace, and without a care. Adrian Athos Porter was on his way to be one of the best police detectives in the state, but when Mayor Cornelius Rogers got a hold of him; his world views were completely corrupted. As were the rest of the states and the rest of the world security forces, no one was safe. Now that the so-called heroes were back from the dead, life has been hell among the worst of the underworld. Citizens lived in dark times, wondering what went wrong, where and who they should turn to now. They fought to keep alive and keep food in their stomachs. Keep honest jobs and honest lives. Now she stood face to face with a man she would've married had the world been reversed, had life continued as it should've. New heroes came out of the dark ready and willing to fight for their lives, just as willing they were to fight many died. But now, in front of her first time love she had promised no tricks. She would give him what he wanted, no powers, no tricks, and all wounds she received she would nurse the old fashion way unless the proved to be too much.

"Come on Athos, I'm tired of waiting." He watched her feet, watched how she never stumbled over herself. He watched her muscles in her thighs contract, all without disturbing the balance of her skin. He also watched her hands on the staff she carried, moving restlessly as if she rather engage in conflict then do a two-step. If she wanted to engage then they would engage. He rushed forward, and he started the fight stance she had learned almost ten years ago. She dodged each kick, thrust, and punch with ease. She then brought the left side of the staff around and attempted to catch him across the face, if his arm didn't deflect it at the last millisecond. So she kicked out and caught him in the stomach, he stumbled back a little before regaining his composure. She moved her hair out of her eyes and smirked slightly at him. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and whirled around. Stupid bastards were attempting to grab the child, who had crawled under a rock cropping. Smart kid, she thought. Rushing over she smacked them both in the back of the head with knobbed end of her staff. "Leave her be!" she growled lowly. They both got up and rubbed the sore spots of their heads, she watched Athos out of the one corner of her vision, as he came closer, a whip in his hands. Soon its crack filled the air as he tested it. The other two got ready to engage in the fight as well. Fire called to her through her anger, but she willed it to only enhance her performance. Watching Athos more than the other two she felt two arms encircle her and squeeze. She screamed out, and as her other attacker came forward she kick him in the head and in the stomach, movements fluid like water itself, he was unconscious before he hit the ground. Using the momentum of her last kick, she pushed her and her captor backwards, when his head smacked against the rock cropping he let go and sank to the ground. She did a round house kick to his head, only to have the whip Athos held wrapped around her ankle and pull her off her feet causing her to fall into a split. She looked up at him with rage as he dragged her to him; she used whatever momentum she could muster to bring her legs together. Bringing her foot up enough to catch him in the chin with the cat of nine tails, as they fell from her ankle she stood in her stance again. The only problem he still had the whip. 


	3. Chapter 3

He brought the back of his hand across his chin, checking it; he saw blood dribbling its way down his palm. He brought the whip up and lashed out; she caught it across her arm and held it there. Letting it dig into her skin. She then pulled it forward and let go, taking the chance to grab her staff again. The child still hid under the outcropping. She wished she had had her own whip, but it was lost in one of her fire incidents. "Tired yet Athos?"

"Not yet Angel, not yet." He murmured, she was wearing him down, she knew it, he knew it. He lashed out again and a smirk played on his lips where he saw blood trickle through the line missing fabric on her back. She didn't cry out this time though. But he did notice her body stiffen at the stinging sensation it caused her to curse under her breath, if he wanted to play dirty so be it, she thought timidly. She turned around now and with a new rage charged his stand strong body. He brought the whip down once again, only this time she raised her staff for the nine tails to capture its hold on the marred wood. With the force she brought down he lunged forward, only to meet the end of her boot.

"Give up, you can't beat me Athos." She told him quietly in the ear. He reached out and caught her around the throat. Squeezing as hard as he could, he felt her struggle. He raised her feet off the ground, she dug her nails into his skin, he only held tighter. Watched her face go red, and then start to turn the indigo color as oxygen couldn't reach her face or her lungs. Then the unexpected happened, as her legs flailed one caught the most private regions on his body. He let go immediately, and as they fell she kicked one last time before rolling away from his now unconscious body. "I still win," she murmured. Picking up her staff and the whip she went to one of the four-wheelers, seeing that it was almost out of gas, she urged the other gas to come forth. She then transferred of to the vehicle she stood at. Taking the extra gas canisters and checking the packs to if they were useful, she took what she needed. Tying everything down she rode to where her stuff was and add it to her new found gear. After everything was secured she went to where the child was. Crouching in front of the rocks she peered into the dark hole. "It's safe now." She told the child, she heard her whimper and she chuckled lightly. "It's okay, I won't hurt you, I swear to you." After a few minutes she started to crawl out. "See it's not so bad, come one lets get you home." She reached behind her and grabbed her cloak; very carefully she wiped the face clear of dust and mud and tears. Bright hazel eyes stared at her with curiosity. With a gentle touch Angel picked the girl up and carried her to the four-wheeler, where she sat her on the leather seat. "Are you thirsty?"

She nodded, grabbing an empty water bottle, using her honed skill she gathered water from the air to fill the bottle with cool water. Laughing lightly at the wide-eyed expression, she put the bottle of pure water into her tiny hands. "What's your name?"

"Christy." She spoke softly.

"Well Christy, I'm Angel, but most people know me as Rayne, it's safe to drink I promise." She watched the little girl drink tentatively, then smiled as she chugged the rest. Angel laughed a little more.

"Are you a witch?"

"No, but you can say I'm close to it. I just have special gift that's all. Like some of the old super heroes." She told the child, she climbed behind her and started the machine up. Heading in the opposite direction of where she was going before. She pushed the ride as fast as it could go with out breaking it.

Harrison and Debra Shoals looked out the front window of their country house. Harrison, a large man at the age of thirty-three, hugged his wife from behind searching through the streets for their daughter. As Debra grabbed her husbands forearms as she fought to gain composure, it was growing darker by the second and her daughter had been missing for a day and a half now she let out another chocked sob. "She'll be fine Deb, she'll be fine." Harrison assured her, though he wasn't at all certain about the well being of their ten year old daughter all he could do was assure about the well being of their ten year old daughter.

"It was wrong to send her Harrison, she shouldn't have done that. What if she gets caught? What if they kill her just so we could have some meat?"

"She's a smart kid Deb, she'll be back." He watched a four-wheeler drive up their street and stop in front of their yellowed white picket fence. "What does that bastard want?" He growled, he let go of his wife and went to the broom closet in the kitchen where he kept his old shotgun, loaded and ready. He rushed back to the door and swung it open. Against the night he watched Athos cloak himself and walked with a steadied limp up their pathway. He raised the shotgun and fired, only to watch the shell veer off and slam into a tree.

"I have your daughter; it would be wise not to shoot off that second round sir." Angel spoke heatedly. She dropped her hood on the porch and unclipped it, revealing the small Christy hugging her back.

"Christy!" He nearly shouted.

"Papa," Christy yelled and scrambled down from Angel's back into her father's waiting arms. The door opened for a second time and Debra came out and hugged both of them, raining kisses on her daughters face. Angel disappeared down the stairs and brought back Athos's backpack and the other two backpack. She left it on the top stair step. She started to turn when Christy scrambled from her father's arms and down over to Angel where she latched herself to her leg. "Thank you." She said softly, looking up with bright hazel eyes.

"I apologize for –"

Angel waved off his apology, "No matter, in any case I would've done the same thing."

"Please let us tend to your wounds."

"No, I've stayed long enough, thank you though but, I have to get going. Goodnight." She clipped her cloak back on. "Stay safe Christy; don't try to steal anymore sheep." She walked away, placing the hood on her head again.

Conner Hawke watched the news telling the world of the disappearance of Athos Porter. How this disappearance was the act of evil, when he himself thought it was an act of a hero. He strolled around his Star City apartment in nothing but a pair of emerald green boxer shorts. Running long fingers through pale blonde spiked hair, his blue eyes searching for something that he knew was missing from the reports. What was the actual cause for Athos Porters disappearance? Conner stalked into his closet when the clock struck nine, he didn't come out.

Meanwhile, sweeping over the aged meadows, she stood on the outskirts of Star City. No one, supposedly, knew of her here. She gunned the four-wheeler forward and through the small thicket of trees, where she chained it to a tree, and walked out, hood over her eyes, covering most of her face, except for the tip of a slender nose and small pouting lips. Heels clicked against the pavement as she strolled up an ally, and into the bright lights of the city. Her lips were in a fixed position, showing that she did not want to be talked to or messed with. Her body moved easily among the crowd, cape swirling around her ankles, her walking stick was secured to her back with the whip Athos had so generously of given her. She would miss him, it was shame that corruption had taken his soul with a venomous hold, but he would no longer hurt others, she thought grimly.

She heard a few whistles and noticed a set of foot steps fall in sync with her own. Then heard the laughter as someone reached out and grabbed her shoulder to turn her around. "Hey girly, you know you shouldn't be out by yourself here? It's dangerous, but don't worry I'll protect you." He stated laughing, looking back at his friends. 

"I don't need your protection. Nor do I want it so just back off kid." She seethed allowing fire to flow in her veins, heating her skin, he immediately let go and stepped back. She kept her face low enough for them not to see. She started to walk away; she didn't want to draw attention to herself, not now anyways. She looked at the window of a vintage clothing store and walked in.

"Hello, how can I help you?" An elderly woman asked as she lowered her hood.

"I'm just going to look around for a bit, thank you though." She told her, and shook her hair out, letting the long bangs flow in front of her face, in front of her left eye, as she trained them to do. She found a few pairs of pants that looked to be long enough, as the store keeper watched her with amusement as the pretty blonde woman roamed through her store. She found another pair of pants and a few long sleeved shirts. Winter was coming and she needed warmer clothing. She heard the bell ring again as she tried the shirts on. She liked them they were the perfect size; she was trying on a pair of pants, when she heard the old lady mutter something. Edging closer to the door of the dressing room she listened. "What do you want?" She heard her exclaim, she couldn't hear the muffled voices but she did peek through the slots. "Get away from there, no, that's all I have, Ow, stop it you idiot you're hurting me."

Angel stepped out from the curtain, wearing one of the shirts and her shorts, she faced them. Everything else was in the dressing room. "My goodness don't you guys have anything better to do then pick on a little old lady?" She stated slowly, looking at all four of he new assailants. They were the same guys that were hitting on her.

"Well we tried to pick you up but – well let's just say that Patrick needed a lot of ice for that nasty burn you gave him. Shame really –"he eyed her, "we could have such an interesting night. She narrowed her eyes at him and at the two boys that came towards her and met them halfway. One was making kissing noises at her; she kicked him in the stomach that sent him sprawling backwards into a rack of clothes. The third guys with slipped behind her and held her around the waist pinning her arms against her side. "Don't move and we won't hurt ya."

The main guy came close to her, a knife gleaming in his hand, as he thrust it out she put up a force field and blocked it. As he thrust it out she put a force field up, not expecting the guy that was currently holding her to stick a knife in her side. She screamed out, and sent her head backwards knocking him firmly in the nose, she heard the woman mutter where Green Arrow was. As the fourth man knocked her head against the counter, Angel watched her slump to the floor. 

"Green ain't coming lady. If he does he'll be too late anyways." He told her as she slumped against the counter. Angels head connected again with her captor and he loosened his grip to grab his nose. She forced the knife out of his hand and turned to face the other two. Staggering a little from the loss of blood, she called on inner strength to get through this. 

She looked at the woman who laid in a crumpled mess begin to shift and moan. She found her stance and glared at them. "Fine no more Ms. Nice Rayne Fire."


	4. Chapter 4

He knew there was trouble, saw it in people's faces, felt it in the pit of his stomach and mind. He saw a guy fly out of a ground floor window by a jet stream of water. Women screamed, men yelled in shock as a second male flew out of the same window, this time by fire, a bag falling from his hand. He hurried over and watched a third figure be tossed out by water and fire. At the window he saw a woman, blonde hair flowing around her face sway then fall to the ground. An elderly woman, he knew as Rose stumble to her aid. Despite her age, she moved quickly and surely. He hurried in, as the crowd gather around the front of the window. "Arrow you're late." She told him, not even looking at him. He immediately gathered up the men as she tended to the woman. He bound them after disarming them and returned what they stole to Rose's cash register and safe. 

"How is she?" He asked absentmindedly, looking at the old lady's white head of hair and saw a mat of red on the side.

Alarmed at his sudden interest in someone else, being female or not. "Burning up, you'd better take her; hospitals won't know what to do with her."

"Are you ok Rose?" He asked her, blue eyes shining against the green mask he wore, the hood of his shirt covered most of his blonde hair; a few tendrils escaped and hung in his eyes. His voice was deep, rich with the accent of the area. The crowd that formed tried to press closer, they talked among themselves, listening to the sirens as the closed in. Among their whispers he gathered a name. Rayne.

"I'm fine, nothing a band-aid won't fix. I'll gather her things; she's a fine woman Arrow. Take care of her. A world like ours needs a woman like her." She scooted back to the changing room, a few moments later she came out with Angels stuff, and a bag of merchandise. "Give these to her, as a gift." She told Arrow.

"Right," He placed her cloak around her shoulders and tying the whip around her stomach, where an ratty old towel was placed to stench the flow of blood. Rose placed her boots on and he picked her up like they were just married. Outside it had started to rain, it rarely rained in Star City, he thought. He looked at the face that rested against his chest. She was very pretty, he thought, as he carried her through the crowd. Rain drenched everyone, they didn't care they just wanted to catch a glimpse of the woman who they hear shot water and fire through her hands. Placing her on his motorcycle he climbed behind her, he watched a patrol car pull up as he disappeared down the road. Cheers among the crowd and people pointing their fingers at him. Rumors starting if they had already known each other and if they were lovers

She awoke to see a fire glowing and her body tucked under a quilt. The warmth filled her body and she kicked the quilt off to discover she had nothing except a black bra and thong. She never had a bra; she wondered where it came from and how it fit her so well. There was also a bandage that covered her right side, she fingered it as she quickly brought the quilt up and secured it tightly around her body. She snatched the quilt up quickly and brought it around her body tightly. She walked silently around the living room, treading carefully, quietly. The walls were painted in deep earthy tones of blue and orange. The ceilings, as well as the trim were white. There was a large sofa made of black leather was perpendicular to a large television and the fireplace. A man, she decided lived here. She tightened her hold of the quilt even more. She looked around for a clock, seeing none; she headed towards the kitchen, its light glowing softly against the dark. Finding the clock on the stove, where the light came from, it read two nineteen in the morning. She left the kitchen to explore further. She noted that only a few pictures of a gentleman in a pristine suit with blonde hair and striking blue eyes hung on the walls. She headed down a hallway sticking her head into several doorways until she found the bathroom, where her clothes hung on the curtain rod to the claw-footed bath tub and shower. She heated the room and let her clothes dry by sucking the water into her body and heating them slightly. She grabbed the sink to steady herself as a sudden wave of nausea came over her. Waiting till it passed she noticed a bag on the seat of the toilet. Taking them out she saw that they were the clothes that she tried on at the store, along with a couple other things including underwear and another bra. She took a shirt out and put it on she grabbed a pair of dark blue jeans that had a line of stitching going up either side of the leg and pulled them on as well. She heard a door close and she stood still, hands on the zipper of the pants. She heard a voice muttering something. She walked on the balls of her feet to the kitchen, she saw a tall figure dressed in a pair of emerald green boxer shorts standing at the refrigerator. Looking him over she noticed the muscular back, he was lean, and obviously very dedicated to whatever he did. Gazing farther down her lips curved at the edges and she stared at his backside. Nice, she thought easily before continuing her journey. Muscular thighs were attached to equally muscular lower legs. Over all he was physically attractive. She moved closer 

"Don't even think about it." he said, as she raised her arm to hit him. He turned so swiftly she didn't have time to blink. But when he tried to grab her, his hands collided with an invisible shield. "So they weren't lying about the shield? Mind putting it down?" He was tall, taller than she was by nearly four inches. His blonde hair was wet and dripped water as it hung in every direction, bringing attention to dazzling blue eyes. A towel that she didn't notice was sitting on the counter next to the refrigerator. She got a chance to get a look at his front side. He was built all over, as she took in the hard chest and rigid abdomen. He had to workout religiously or do something as strenuous. She brought her gaze back to his and found that his eyes were laughing and a wide smile was plastered on his face to show off a row of perfectly white teeth. 

She cleared her throat and looked at him curiously. "Who are you?"

"Conner Hawk. And you?"

"Rayne."

"Your real name."

"Angel." He stared at her long, taking in her body again now that it was fully clothed and awake. Though she still looked a little pale, he couldn't force her to rest. He saw that she had deep teal eyes, eyes that contrasted his own lighter blue ones.

"Ok, I know you have gifts, what are they?" He asked curiously.

"Why should I tell you if I did have gifts?"

"I know you do."

"Then, you should know what they are, thanks for your help Mr. Hawke, but I'll be going now." She hurried to the bathroom and gathered her clothes. She knew that name, knew it from when she ran in with some of the newer heroes. He had to be three years older than she was. At least. She grabbed her corset and with sure fingers began to tighten it. She didn't know that he stood at the door watching.

"You're lucky to be alive. Angel Ange."

She stopped and stared at him over her shoulder. "How –"

"You were in the news, people still talk about you. How you were a miracle child, so is that how you came to possess your powers."

"It's none of your business. Where's the rest of my stuff.'

"Here, but hidden; I've some friends, like you, that would be very interested in –"

"Not interested." She told him, teal eyes glaring at him. "Give me my stuff."

"The whip isn't yours."

"Then keep it, but the staff, and the cloak are. Green Arrow."

He came closer, the lights were on now. "So you know who I am. Good. Well, Angel until your wound is healed you're not leaving."

She pushed past him, and walked straight back to his bedroom, intending to search his room until she found her belongings. She held a force field over the door so that he couldn't get in. As she was searching she searched her body for where the wound was. Closing her eyes she snaked fingers up the side of her corset. She sucked in a breath at fire began to cauterize the wound itself; it always ate at her how closing her own wounds sucked the life out her. She looked at the doorway was watching Conner as she finished up her work and swaying she fell to the floor unconscious and the wall came tumbling down.

She is something else Conner thought. Strong and beautiful. What a mix. Rose may be right; the world needs more heroes like her. How did she figure out who I was though? He sat at his desk, looking over the articles about her. Martial arts master, swimmer, archer, old weapons specialist. He looked back at her, on his bed, blonde hair spilling around her shoulders as she slept. Her wound was healed closed by cauterization. As far as he could see there was no infection, or a sign of it. He bent down beside her watching the air exhale through her mouth and inhale through her nose, she was a runner even in her sleep. Then there was that scar, it was clean, a little puffy, curved from her left eye down to the lobe of the left ear. She must be one hell of a fighter, he thought. "Angel," he told her quietly. She moved her head so that the scar was covered, her face away from his. He called her name three more times, and on the third time with her face turned towards his own, those blue-green eyes opened up quickly.

"You don't wake up slowly do you?" He asked her, his hands on his knees, as he leant forward. 

She sat up slowly, grabbing her head. "What happened?"


	5. NOTE: Apology

So I want to apologize to everyone

**So I want to apologize to everyone...I have the stories I want to post, a little more tweaking and they're almost done. One small problem though...the jump drive, that has become my life with all my writings, as well as numerous papers for my classes...has disappeared. Sad I know, and I will hope that I can find it. Pray or hope or whatever that I can find it...its pretty much my life, I've had that thing for years. So I just wanted to apologize again especially for those who enjoy reading my stories...thank you for reading this. **


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